


The Ache Is In Your Soul, Not Your Limbs

by DemigodNamedAthena



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Gen, Hurt Deceit, Hurt/Comfort, I had a hard time writing this and im begging for validation, Injury, Sympathetic Deceit Sanders, winged sides
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-17
Updated: 2019-04-17
Packaged: 2020-01-15 08:19:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,792
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18495043
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DemigodNamedAthena/pseuds/DemigodNamedAthena
Summary: "First scales, now this."Deceit isn't sure what is happening when two large feathered appendages manifest on his back, but he's sure the problem will go away if it is ignored.Luckily, the others have a bit more information on the subject.





	The Ache Is In Your Soul, Not Your Limbs

Deceit sunk out, dropping the maniacal chuckle as soon as he could. His first time revealing himself to Thomas. It could’ve gone worse, he supposed, but it could have gone better. Of course impersonating Morality was the most difficult course of action; he believed in rigid laws of right and wrong and left no room for the grey area that Deceit usually operated in.

 

He stood in front of his mirror and studied his reflection. 

 

He didn’t at all mind his physical appearance, but it was novel to be able to look at it. Keeping himself hidden from Thomas meant he existed as a Side without form, not much more than a conscious entity, lacking a physical presence. Or, as physical as one could be as a figment of someone’s personality. He supposed he would have to get used to this new body now.

 

///

 

Weeks later, Deceit sunk down into his room, immediately shrugging his cape off and tugging at his shirt. He needed it off, he needed it off, he needed it  _ off- _

 

The article of clothing fell to the floor, allowing the large feathered appendages folded against his back to release. They ached deeply, the muscles spasming from being folded roughly inside his clothes for so long.

 

Where the wings had come from, Deceit had no inkling of an idea. They had appeared in their fully feathered glory the day after he first revealed himself to Thomas. Deceit sighed and stretched them out as far as he could, trying to ease the ache. He hadn’t signed up for wings when he revealed himself to Thomas. Another unsettling part of him, he supposed. 

 

_ First the scales, now this. _

 

Deceit had no idea how to take care of wings, but there must be long-term repercussions for repeatedly folding them unnaturally. Did they need to be cleaned? He didn’t know. He didn’t want to think about it. Instead, he sat down on his bed and let his wings splay out around him. They still hurt, but not as much as they had. He pulled out his notebook and, keeping one ear tuned in case Thomas encountered a difficult situation, started to write. 

 

///

 

Deceit sunk out, his ears ringing. 

 

They weren’t listening to him, Thomas, Patton, Logan, Virgil, no one wanted to hear what he had to say. He was used to it, it was  _ fine,  _ but he had never stayed out with them for so long and his wings were on  _ fire _ . 

 

He wrestled with his shirt, remembering belatedly that he could just snap it off. 

 

His wings fell out of their position, and the sudden movement had him choking back a cry of agony. 

 

He barely had time to stumble to his bed before the world faded to black.

 

///

 

Roman glided to the ground, using his wings to make a graceful landing. Things had been...less than stellar in the days after the video, but he found that a good flight was always good for creativity. The wind ruffling his feathers, the warmth in his face and back, the feeling of weightlessness as he soared high above everything in the Imagination - yeah. It was good.

 

The calm of the Imagination was shattered quickly, however, by Patton flying in, cardigan fluttering behind him like a cape  _ (perhaps they could do a video with superhero personas? He’d have to write that down.)  _

 

“Something’s wrong.” Patton blurted as soon as he was in hearing distance.

 

“What?” Roman asked, his mind still working on the superhero idea. (He wanted a cape, ok?)

 

“Something’s wrong, I can feel it, I was in the kitchen baking some cookies when I felt something...flicker out. And I can’t figure out what it was! I already checked on Logan and Virgil,  they’re fine, so I thought it might have been you -even though it didn’t  _ feel  _ like you- but you’re fine! And I don’t know what’s wrong!” Patton was breathing hard, his face red, and whether it was from the running or the intense emotions -both, in all likelihood-  Roman couldn’t tell.

 

“Easy Padre, take a deep breath.” Roman reached out with his arms to pull Patton into a hug, wrapping his wings around him too. “Whatever it is, we can’t figure it out if you’re passed out. There you go, nice big breaths.”

 

Patton’s breathing settled to something more regular, and Roman pulled away, though he left his wings loosely surrounding him.

 

“Now, tell me exactly what happened.”

 

///

 

Patton didn’t know exactly what he was expecting Deceit’s room to look like  _ (the Slytherin common room perhaps?) _ , but this wasn’t it.

 

It looked...normal.

 

Well, normal except for the unconscious Side lying (ha!) draped over his bed.

 

Deceit...had wings. Big ones. Black with yellow feathers neatly outlining the edges. They were magnificent.

 

They were also in awful shape. The feathers were sticking out in every which direction, some twisted around each other, others bent under in what had to be awfully painful. There were raw, bald spots on the tops of the wing joints, right where a shirt would hit. Patton winced in sympathy.

 

He stepped past the pile of clothes on the floor and approached the bed. Deceit’s wings were twitching slightly and little spasms were visible. Whatever the deceitful Side had been doing, he had taken awful care of his wings. Patton gently ran his fingers through the downy feathers on the underside of a wing and made a face at how dirty they were.

 

With a sigh, Patton placed his hands on Deceit and sunk them out to the Commons. He’d need his whole family to help him sort out this mess.

 

///

 

Roman shrieked when Patton appeared on the floor of the living room, Deceit with him.

 

Patton was in Dad-Mode however, and did nothing more than wave Roman over.  

 

“Go get Logan and Virgil, and grab some towels while you’re at it. His wings need to be groomed.”

 

Roman had so many questions -Deceit had wings? Since when?- but he knew better than to try to slow Pat down while he was in Dad-Mode. Instead he nodded once and quickly headed out to fetch the things that Patton asked him for.

 

Logan and Virgil had sunk down to Patton, no questions asked, and when Roman made it back to the three of  them with a stack of towels, they were already spreading Deceit’s wings out. They were huge, easily spanning the distance between the couch and the wall, and -Roman admitted begrudgingly- they were beautiful. Or they would be once they were cleaned up.

 

“Oh good Roman, you’re here. Lay those out under his wings, I think it’s safe to say that he’s going to lose a fair amount of feathers.” Roman helped Patton spread them out, and then he settled himself next to Logan to start the tedious process of setting the feathers straight.

 

///

 

Deceit was pulled out of the pleasant darkness that he had sunk into by being jostled roughly, sharp points of pain awakening him fully. He twisted away with a screech -there were  _ hands,  _ hands on his wings, pulling at them, and he needed them  _ off _ \- but the hands didn’t relent, instead tightening their grip. He tried to pull his wings -his aching, sensitive, vulnerable, wings- away from them, but they wouldn’t cooperate. He only succeed in making them spasm again, and he took a deep breath against the pain.

 

Finally, his senses cleared enough that he could hear the voices murmuring to him.

 

“Shh, Deceit, stop moving. It’s ok, it’s just us. It’ll be ok.”

 

Patton. The voice was Patton’s, but it had the opposite effect of soothing. He just pulled harder, wondering why they had invaded his room, his private space. Hands were still tangled in the feathers of his wings, and he finally stopped pulling when he realized that they weren’t letting him go.

 

“Please,” He whispered, feeling awfully exposed. Hadn’t he suffered enough?

 

“Deceit, we’re not here to hurt you. We’re trying to help.”

 

If only that were true. Deceit was so very tired of being alone, of being ignored. His wings hurt, and so did his heart, and he just wanted it to stop.

 

“Ok,” He whispered, dropping his head onto the carpet. He didn’t believe them -why should he?- but he didn’t have the energy to sink out. They could do whatever they wanted as long as he could sleep through it.

 

“Oh, ok, good. Just relax, Deceit, it’s...it’s going to be ok.” Patton’s tone was surprised with a hint of something else, uncertainty? Fear? Distrust? Deceit shifted slightly and braced himself.

 

“Alright so, your wings are in quite the shape. We’re going to see if we can straighten out your feathers, and then we’ll go from there.”

 

That didn’t make sense. 

 

“What? I don’t understand, aren’t you guys...I don’t know. Going to hurt me? How do you know how to groom wings? Aren’t you freaked out by them?”

 

The living room was silent (because that’s where he was, not his room as he had thought), until it was broken by Roman’s voice.

 

“Deceit, I know we have had our...differences in the past-” An understatement- “But we wouldn’t ever harm you.” Roman’s voice was  _ hurt? _ As if this day wasn’t weird enough.

 

“And as for your wings, well. We all have them. So our knowledge is of a rather personal manner.” That was Logan, and his voice was calm, calculated as always.

 

_ Wait- what?  _

 

‘What?” God, maybe Deceit hit his head when he fell. Although he wasn’t quite sure his brain could come up with something as ridiculous as this. Wings? They all have them? “I’ve never seen them before.”

 

“Well I suppose that makes sense, we keep them invisible while with Thomas. We only have them out when we’re here, in his mind. You avoid the Common area, to the best of my knowledge.”

 

That was true. Deceit stayed to his room as a rule. Deceit let out another sigh, this one relieved, because at the very least he now knew that the others knew what they were doing concerning wings.

 

“Deceit, we’re going to start straightening out your feathers now. It’ll probably hurt, and I’m sorry about that, but it’s got to be done.” He nodded and resisted the urge to jerk away when his wings were spread out again. Slowly, the Light Sides started the long process of fixing his wings. Each feather was its own point of pain, and it felt like individual needles as they straightened each one that was out of place, many of them falling out as they went.

 

He didn’t notice he was crying, silent tears slipping out of his eyes, until the carpet had a slight damp spot pressing into the side of his face. Someone -Virgil, perhaps?- reached for a twisted primary to try to straighten it out. It hurt so much more than the others, and Deceit yanked his wing away on instinct, accidentally hitting the two sides on his left with it when he did so.

 

“I totally meant to do that.” The lie slipped out without him thinking about it, and he winced. “Sorry,” He added softly, trying to fold his wings up and roll away from the four sides. Patton placed a gentle hand on his shoulder and stopped him.

 

“Hold up there, easy. Don’t go anywhere. We can take a break, but your wings are only going to get worse if we leave them like this.”

 

Deceit sat up so he could look the others in their eyes. He shifted uncomfortably when he remembered that he was shirtless and tried to subtly wrap his arms around himself.

 

“Oh,” Patton whispered softly, leaning forward to gently wipe at Deceit’s cheeks, where the evidence of tears was fresh. “You could’ve asked us to stop Deceit, we told you it would hurt but you weren’t supposed to be suffering.” Deceit shook his head and dropped his gaze. He felt weird, emotional and tired, not at all like his usual snarky self. Patton looked past him and said, “Logan? Will you go get us some first aid supplies? We need to wrap those raw spots.”

 

“I’ll go with him,” Virgil mumbled. Deceit heard them depart, eyes still trained on the floor, and Patton addressed Roman next, asking him to go make them some tea. Deceit was about to ask why they didn’t just summon those things, but he bit his tongue. Patton sat down in front of him, criss-cross-applesauce, and smiled gently at him. 

 

“I’m sorry, Deceit. We didn’t do this right, at all.”

 

Deceit shrugged. “Why’d you come looking for me?”

 

“I knew something was wrong, I could feel it. Something flickered out in the Mindscape, and when I realized it was you I was worried that you had been hurt, or ducked out.”

 

Deceit decided against saying what he was thinking,  _ Wouldn’t you all be thrilled if I left? _

 

“Deceit…how long have you had wings?"

 

A pause.

 

“Since I first revealed myself to Thomas.”

 

Patton gasped softly, and made a strange motion with his hands, like he wanted to hug him, but thought better of it.

 

An awkward silence settled between them, but Patton broke it again.

 

“Do you want to see my wings?”

 

Deceit lifted his head at that, shock written all over his features. As he watched, Patton’s wings manifested in the static space behind his back. They were adorable, and matched Patton perfectly. They were much smaller than Deceit’s, and Patton’s feathers were light blue with green splashes on them, like someone had splattered paint on them. Patton stretched his wings all the way out. 

 

“Would you like to touch them?”

 

Deceit’s hand was already halfway towards them, and he paused to confirm with Patton that  _ yes, he could _ . Patton’s feathers were soft, not sticky like Deceit’s. He was still marveling over them when the other Sides returned, Roman balancing five mugs of tea and Logan carrying a small First-Aid kit. They all settled down on the living room floor with Patton and Deceit, all giving him warning looks as he carded his fingers through the downy feathers of the underside of Patton’s wing.

 

Deceit pulled his hand away like he had been burned and dropped his gaze again. If he had been looking up, he would have seen the glare that Patton was giving the others. 

 

“Deceit, will you be ok with Logan bandaging your wings? The tops of them are rubbed raw and I want to make sure those don’t get infected and give the feathers there a chance to come back in.”

 

Deceit lifted one shoulder in acknowledgement and slowly stretched a wing towards Logan, ignoring the ache in the muscles from doing so. Logan’s hands were cold when they made contact with the tops of his wings, but his hands were gentle as he maneuvered it how he wanted it.

 

“Ok, I’m going to clean these, put some Neosporin on them, and bandage them. I apologise for any discomfort this may cause.”

 

The sting of whatever Logan was using to clean the wounds burned like a bitch, and Deceit white knuckled the fabric of his pants through the whole thing. The cream was cool, at least, and the bandage was soft. He let out a soft gasp when the cotton ball touched his other wing and pressed his lips together tightly to keep any other sounds from escaping.

 

A warm hand gripped his, and he glanced up to see Roman looking at him. Roman offered him a smile that was tight around the edges, but still genuine. He held his gaze until Logan secured the edge of the bandage.

 

“There. Finished.” He heard Logan shuffling away, and he awkwardly pulled his wings in towards his body.

 

“Thanks, Logan.” Deceit offered, glancing over his shoulder. Logan gave him a curt nod, but his eyes were soft. Patton handed him his mug of tea with a smile.

 

“It’s late, and I’m sure you’re tired. Do you want to sleep down here Deceit? Logan or I can change your bandages tomorrow and we can finish grooming you.” 

 

Deceit nodded, and pretended the lump in his throat was allergies, or the hot tea going down before it had a chance to cool down. And the sting in his eyes was from the residual pain, not because Patton looked at him with an honest and open expression. No, there were no emotions here, his insides were just warm from the tea, not because he had never felt this kind of familiarity. Roman’s hand was still warm on his, and the pain in his wings had faded to a background ache.

 

“Yes, Patton, thank you. That sounds...wonderful.”

 

Deceit couldn’t have lied even if he wanted to.

**Author's Note:**

> Thoughts? Opinions? Just want to scream about these characters that Thomas blessed us with and I like to manipulate to tell stories? Let me know in the comments! Or, come yell at me on [Tumblr.](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/demigodnamedathena)


End file.
